''Hey, I've been through that once this week. I am not interested in doing it again.''
Kris could almost hear the frown growing on Drago's face. ''I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what do you want?''
A small voice from somewhere on Drago's bridge could be heard saying, ''Then don't ask that dame.''
Kris ignored both. ''I need you to get Thorpe out of my sky. I don't care if you scare him out or chase him out or blow him out. But I need to tell Cortez that his ride is gone.''
Kris paused to glance out her observer port. The firefight hadn't slackened while she talked. ''Bret, a whole lot of good people are going to die if we let this firefight go the full count. I can't think of anyone else but you to stop it.''
''How I hate it when you tell me I'm the only one that can save your bacon.'' Drago sighed. ''But then I should have known you hadn't gotten my ship riding his exhaust for nothing.''
Actually, Kris had done that long before she thought of this way out. She thought. Well, maybe she wasn't totally innocent of planning ahead for the worst case.
''Thanks, Bret, and thank the whole crew. There are a lot of people down here who are going to owe you their lives.''
''Kris, only heroes respond to that kind of talk. Remember, we're just in it for the money.''
''Yeah, right,'' was all Kris could say to that.
''Now if you'll excuse me, me and my pirate crew have a bit of finagling to do. You said you wouldn't mind if we just scare Thorpe out of your sky? I did hear you right?''
''Anything that makes him not available to give Cortez and his troublemakers a ride home.''
''Hmmm. Let me talk to my dirty-trick brain trust. I'll get back to you next orbit.''
39
Cortez led his last reserves up the hill at the fastest trot he could push them. At the end of the line, his grinning sergeant collected stragglers, peeled off a corporal when they grew to a wad of ten, and let them follow at a slower pace.
Cortez let the squads of stragglers grow. He needed to reach the captain with what he could today, not get there with everyone tomorrow.
Cortez had chosen to fall back a full two klicks before he started across the field and up the first hill. He knew he was in plain sight of any OP on the hill, but at least he was well out of gunshot. Cortez had brought no artillery. Not even a mortar. But then, the Longknife girl and her farmers hadn't so much as rigged a slingshot to hurl anything explosive.
Not for the first time did the colonel shake his head. The idiots who put this thing together were so sure this planet was a cakewalk. Just march in, intimidate the civilians, and start raking in the cash.
Cortez wished the poor troopers he was hustling along were the financiers of this screwup. No, no he didn't. Those pukes would have dropped of a collective heart attack long ago.
Cortez reached the top of the first ridge. Turning the lead of the column over to a corporal, he pointed the man downhill, and told him, ''Keep up the pace.'' Then, raising his binoculars, Cortez studied the situation.
Off to his right, Zhukov and his team plunked away at the troops behind the dikes. There didn't seem to be that many rifles there, not compared to the rattle of fire from that flank. Cortez knew he was facing fire from dug-in positions on the hill he now stood atop. Certainly the hostiles had dug themselves into those dikes. There was a lot more there than met the eye.
The colonel eyed the hill beneath him. Here and there an orchard or a tree with clumps of bushes around it broke up his field of vision, but from this angle it was hard to miss the glint off a gun barrel or the spit of flame when a rifle fired.
He chuckled. These farmers must make their own powder. Smokeless it wasn't. Not as good as the ammo used by his troops. That told him a lot. With the load being variable in both amount and strength, these folks wouldn't be hitting what they aimed at. Not at any kind of range.
Of course, up close, it wouldn't matter. So keep back for now, let them shoot. Who had the worst ammo problem?
''How long do these caves run?'' Cortez asked aloud. He didn't see a door into the mountain. Were all the firing positions connected? That was a thought. If he blew his way into any one of the caves, would he be loose among them all? Would his troops in the cave be shooting fish in a barrel?
Now that was a nice thought.
Cortez moved his focus to the next hill. Most of the fire came from a series of slit trenches along its military crest. The end of them zigzagged over the crest toward what was probably a firing position on the other side.
The work looked hasty, but professionally camouflaged from an observer in the valley. The first Guards to march into the valley below them must not have done a very careful look when they were up here. Then again, Cortez's original command post hadn't given him a very good look at those slit trenches, either.
He searched the hill carefully but saw nothing that looked like a fire pit or cave outlet on that ridge. All the fire came from those well-concealed positions along the crest.
The colonel put away his binoculars and started jogging beside his men down the hill. He had a lot to think about.
* * *
Kris had run out of things to worry about. She didn't like the feel of that. Not at all.
Drago had his sailing orders. It would be next orbit, ninety minutes, at least, before she'd learn anything about how Thorpe took to the nudge. If it took two or three orbits for matters to develop, it would be getting close to dark.
Come dark, the question would be whose army ran first.
Kris eyed the swamp that separated Jack from the attack on his rice paddies. The assault there seemed stalled. So long as Jack had ammunition, no one looked inclined to try splashing their way across that killing field.
In front of Kris it didn't look any better for Cortez. His fire was steady, but no one looked inclined to risk the open space. One tank could have made mincemeat of Kris's position. A couple of howitzers could have dug her troops out quick.
How long had it been since there was a fair, stand-up fight, just infantry against infantry? She'd have to ask Grampa Trouble next time she was on speaking terms with the old coot.
That left Kris's right. She edged as far over as she could to the left of the viewing port and squinted. Not a lot to see.
That wasn't a good development.
A girl, maybe ten years old, galloped into the HQ. She smiled at Gramma Polska, then turned to Kris. ''My momma says you ought to come quick. She says she can see something that you can't see, and you need to see it'' came out in a rush that showed no lack of breath.
Kris wasn't seeing anything interesting out of her port, so maybe a different view was called for.
''Keep an eye out here,'' Kris told Penny. ''Let me know as soon as you hear anything from the Wasp.'' Then she followed the little girl into the dark.
Unlike most adults, who had electric lamps, the girl had no trouble seeing in the dim lights stuck into the walls. Kris followed her for a while, risking her steps. Then called a halt and ducked into a cross corridor to borrow a lamp from three riflemen. They didn't fire a shot the whole time Kris was negotiating the loan. As she rejoined the girl, someone fired.
Kris was glad she'd borrowed the lamp, because she quickly entered a new section of tunnel with very little light in it. Still, the girl picked her way along it, bent over but trailing hands on both sides of the wall. Kris found herself once more regretting that last growth spurt in her first year of high school. Clearly, this section of cave was meant for dwarfs, midgets, and ten-year-olds.
Then the girl's bottom went right and Kris found herself following her into all kinds of daylight. Blinking hard, Kris switched off the lamp and looked around.